"Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. " "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. They crossed the Park to the westward, and then turned back and walked round the circle about the Royal Botanical Gardens and then southwardly toward Waterloo. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend. “I dare not,” she answered. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone.
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