Wood, would preclude the possibility of his remaining with his new friends as long as his inclinations prompted. "Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon. Prison was beastly. “Mere sensuality. But I expect him back every minute. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. " "Poor Jack!" sighed Thames. Wood,—"he'll never mend. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
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