Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. Don’t imagine that. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. ’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. When you don’t have any fingers left, I take a toe. What is it?" "Is there anything I can do?" The idiocy of the question filled him with the craving of laughter. " "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. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout.
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