Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. ‘I’ll handle her better alone. It’s all very fine and all that, Vee, this freedom, but it isn’t going to work. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss.
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