"You cannot understand me, Madam; and it is well you cannot. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. She ignored it until it repeated itself. “No, I’m fine. " Mrs. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears.
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