But for now, I’d like to turn in, if you don’t mind. His brows drew a little nearer together. "But, pardon my intrusion. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. " "Well, so long as he gets on his feet in the end. Gosse sneered. ’ ‘Gosse,’ corrected Lucilla. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo.
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