"I should be sorry to persuade him to do anything his calmer judgment might disapprove. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. She was, she guessed, close to the library. ’ ‘They? How many are there?’ ‘Oh, peste. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s.
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