Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. Lose not a moment, Hobson. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point. This is grace I am saying! Oh! my dear! all the joy and weeping of life are mixed in me now and all the gratitude.
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