Stanley, “Mr. " "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. He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. " Jonathan's eyes glistened as he told over the notes. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. He would have some sport with Mr.
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