A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. I’ve just finished my first symphony!” He said proudly. CHAPTER I.
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