" "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. " "I'm sure I'm very sorry. "Gad! it's a devilish fine face when lit up. Tears sprang to her eyes. But they been good to me, they have, sir. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood.
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