"You poor child!" said Prudence. " "Give me the brandy, and I'll tell you," replied Wood. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. “You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression. There it was—to be borrowed. "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow. "She travelled alone; and she is the purest woman God ever permitted to inhabit the earth. Wood, leaping from the bed.
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