" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. “By Jove!” he broke out, “one tries to take a serious, sober view. She looked at it with a little shudder, but she made no motion to take it. His body had been maimed many times. ” “You weren’t rude,” she said. ‘That is settled then. She turned there and beckoned. I cannot work, I cannot teach. One might suppose him turning up; he knew a lot of clever people, and some of them might belong to the class.
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