The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. It was so easy to forget the imminent threats of being discovered during times of peace. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” He said. You never can tell. I'm nearly nabbing you. But I’m always trying to make things happen. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. ” “We are,” said Ann Veronica. " CHAPTER IV. We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man.
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