“Annabel at last,” he shouted. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. Mr. You’re all such good cooks. " "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 must tell you all about God’s land, this marvellous virgin country, with its silent forests and dazzling peaks. “There is some mystery about you both,” he exclaimed, with sudden earnestness.
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