Wood trembled. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune. You can live just about how you like. “Won’t you have some more tea, Mr. II.
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