Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. She was pensive and thoughtful. "Very well, Mr. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. He tried to raise an outcry, but his throat was again forcibly griped by Rowland. "The Dawn Pearl," he said.
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