He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. All the village was assembled in the churchyard. “You say you want a vote,” said Mr. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. As Wood obeyed, his foot slipped; and, casting his eyes upon the floor, he perceived it splashed in several places with blood. “It is very doubtful,” he said. ‘You’re not going to kill me this time.
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