‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. I'll wait here. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. I would that you were my own. " "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. He glanced out of the window, looked back at the major and grasped the handle of the door. “My hand! This isn’t the place.
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