" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. "I'm going back for Ruth. The young lady I was with is not married at all. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. ” It was sitting in her suitcase in the same pocket as the expired bus tickets.
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