His voice when he spoke was almost fiercely assertive, but there was an undernote of nervousness. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. " "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. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. He made it brief. She saw it, and checked without thinking.
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