‘You have every right to be angry with me. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. " "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that. There are certain smells, certain tinges to the air. You must be lonely here with only a few men friends. “Oh, I can’t thank you. There's the grand laced coat he wore at his trial, which I intend for my wedding-dress.
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