‘Come, cry a truce. —"Stay! something occurs to me. Wild hasn't been to inquire after him to-day," observed Langley; "it's the first time he's missed doing so since the trial. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. Their small talk continued. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go.
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