Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. She tried not to notice how much attention Martin Chen had been paying her, but he had been bold enough to speak to her the other day.
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