“I had a faint idea once that things were as you say they are, but the affair of the ring—of the unexpected ring—puzzled me. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. But take a drop of wine," urged he, filling a drinking-horn and presenting it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good. I felt—wrapped in thick cobwebs.
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