He nodded silently, too full for words. He saw that his words were falling upon dull ears. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. I’ll be waiting for you outside. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers.
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