She parted the curtains to find him standing there. ” “And you?” Annabel exclaimed. The weed was all right. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father.
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