" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. Very likely by this time the whole truth is known. Let me engage myself. " "I tell you what, Jack," said Gay, "I've several urgent engagements this morning; but I'll return to-morrow, and hear the rest of your story. It was time to get up. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. "That's well. He yelled but he had no breath to support his own voice. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard. ’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features—especially the nose and chin,—and by the emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her drapery. . ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind.
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