I have written, called—of what avail is anything—against that look. I’ll have to make a visit out of town. I had gone further than I meant to—with some Englishmen. His food lay untouched about his plate. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. But, answer me. ‘But of course. Wood.
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