“I have come from a very unfashionable quarter,” she said, “and I do not think that I have been inside a milliner’s shop for a year. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Better check on Remenham House, I suppose. " "Well, well, since you desire it, I'll say no more," returned Wood. But days had now passed. The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay. " And her faithful attendant, drowned in tears, withdrew, followed by the two assistants.
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