She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. Lose not a moment, Hobson. The Widow and her Child II. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course.
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