Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. . " "He'll have hard work to do it by that time, father," remonstrated Thames; "you'd better let me help him. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. Moving room to room it was. The longing to talk to someone! But in the end she had gone to her room without giving in to the craving. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves.
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