"The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. .
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