She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. This is no place for me. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. She could tell that they too would find their legs jutting awkwardly from the petite furniture. I'll go with you. “I was frightened then,” she declared.
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