" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Roddy muffed two. Norris says she's dying. "Your ladyship is far too unwell to travel," remarked the female attendant, assisting her to rise; "you'll never be able to reach Manchester. “Oh, theories! Being in love is a fact. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. . " "Rather behind me;" and he spoke no more that morning.
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