“How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. " "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. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. You don't know what you have got; I do. Wood, was examined. It clicked and the bookshelf was once more intact.
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