“I trust,” he said, “that you will recognize the justice of these conditions. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. They went first to a hotel, and then out again on to the boulevards. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. One post-midnight meeting, she could stand it no longer.
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