Wood, joining the group, "it isn't Thames Darrell come to life again?" "It is—it is!" cried Winifred, rushing towards him, and flinging her arms round his neck,—"it is my dear—dear brother!" "Well, this is what I never expected to see," said the carpenter, wiping his eyes; "I hope I'm not dreaming! Thames, my dear boy, as soon as Winny has done with you, let me embrace you. " "Mr. ‘I have Joan to tell me how much I look like Mary. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. “We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us.
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