Wood's cries: but, regardless of this, he darted along a passage, gained the shop, and passed through an open door into the street. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew. “When we see you going through disobedience to the devil! Come, Molly, she must go her own way.
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