Wood. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. The conversation turned towards the subject of the Diedermayer’s many European vacations. " "And so Sir Rowland murdered his friend," remarked Wood. "Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an authoritative tone. " "Oh, no!" Ruth protested. “I say!” he said, without any movement.
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