" "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. " A prophecy which was to be fulfilled in a singular way. Oh, you must believe me. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. "Winifred Wood will never marry, unless the grave can give up its dead. ’ ‘I don’t want to think it,’ he said, and she thrilled to the savagery in his tone.
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