He spoke only when he saw the sing-song girl he wanted to buy. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. " "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. I shouldn't care to express an opinion. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying.
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