His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. ’ ‘Yes, she will. Are you sure you're not misinformed, Sir?" "I was in the Lodge at the time," replied the jailer. Beck, it smells wonderful in here. "You have both," replied Wood, fervently. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. Please yourself.
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