She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. . “There’s no one here except me. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. " "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. Men do not understand constancy as women do.
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