The fates are never so kind to me. ” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. " "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. But … he must want to live in order that the inclination to repeat this incident may not recur.
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