He could lose himself for hours at a time. Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. She answered him almost coldly. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. "I don't deserve it," he said, at length; "but I would have risked a thousand deaths to enjoy this moment's happiness. "Your sympathy is being wasted. “Perhaps your engagements are made for you. " "Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood, with a laugh.
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