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His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. In a little while he and she were talking quite easily and agreeably. Time wore on somewhat slowly with the prisoner, who had to control his impatience in the best way he could; but as the shades of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and Mr. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek.

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