“I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. " "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. ” “It’s some sort of delirium,” said Capes. Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench.
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