" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. The small bed’s hospital corners had been put into disarray by Michelle’s crying fit. But nobody drinks on my island unless I offer it, which is seldom. Sheppard. Nor was he long in making it available. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. He hugged her when he saw her in the hallway.
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