"I have one inquiry more to make of you, Sir," said the stranger, as soon as he had conquered his displeasure, "and I will then trouble you no further. Are you sure what it is you want of me?” “I want you. Around him were all the evidences of plenty. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ” He said. See what you have made of me. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that.
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