" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. I said, ‘It is no use your telling me about this walk and pretend I’ve been told about the ball, because you haven’t. ’ Roding left the house instantly, not even pausing to nod. ‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit.
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