He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. " "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. ’ Martha looked up, belligerence in her tone. ‘I know that, miss. Once he chuckled aloud.
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