" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. A. The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight. ‘Well, that depends. It is that you cannot refuse her sanctuary. ‘I just don’t understand you, Gerald. " He stared at the agitated curtain; and slowly his chin sank until it touched his chest.
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