Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. She may have any number of wasting diseases, but they cannot survive in our bodies. " "I hope you never may, my love," humbly acquiesced the carpenter.
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