" "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. ‘All right, Trodger. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye. " "And now, father, your blessing—your consent!" cried Thames. Foolish compliments were tossed about like confetti.
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