" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. " Jack approached her. My heart would speak if it could, for it is very full. Dead or alive, I'll have him. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. “I find it very hard to write this letter. “Ugh!” she said. He never asked questions; he never addressed his companions; and frequently he took off his cap and wiped his forehead.
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