Spurling, half aside. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. I will never wed you. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
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