See paragraph 1. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Tomorrow you will feel like a freed woman. ” “Oh, it wasn’t that. Wild, and his uncle, Sir Rowland Trenchard. I can vouch for that. You have made enough sacrifices for her surely without this. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write.
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