Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. “I have no wish,” he said, “to altogether ignore the fact that you are my wife’s sister, and have therefore a certain claim upon me. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. She ran away from you; and now I can easily understand why. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth.
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