But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me. "Red apples and snow!" he repeated. For the love of Heaven, Jack, don't move!—Don't alter a muscle, if you can help it. No girl with a face like that…. I've come to take you back home. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused.
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