"Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. ” He paused, and went on, after a keen look at her: “I had rather gossip to a really intelligent girl than to any man alive. He was disappointed when Intermission arrived. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. ‘Then open it quickly.
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