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Wood's. “That doesn’t touch the question I asked you,” she said. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. Instantly seizing it, the young man placed it in the carriage, shut the door, and commanded his servants to drive off. "Forgive—forgive me!" "I have nothing to forgive," replied Mrs.
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