"Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. But on this matter my mind is quite made up. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. “All these days I have taken her for you.
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