" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. ‘But I’m hanged if I know why you find it so amusing. He felt the first sting of the whip. Marry me. Nor was this impression removed as he stole a glance at Mrs. Capes, do you think.
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