I feel like a fraudulent trustee. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. “Me and my bright ideas. And for my part, if I were inclined to exercise my benevolence at all, it should be in favour of some more deserving object than that whining, hypocritical Magdalene. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. I hardly see you anymore. "As circumstances shall dictate, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan.
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