She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. ’ He did as she bid him, and was very soon rewarded by the discovery of an oval miniature, encased in gold. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites.
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