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"Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. On the other hand, you seldom revere your immediate grandfather, unless he has promised to leave you some money. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands.
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