Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. " "I will take you. He was so seldom wrong. They thought that she was her own mother. Let him be sure.
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