In the floor were set four ring-bolts, about nine feet apart. Every moment. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. I know now what it is to be an abandoned female.
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