“I changed my last shilling yesterday. A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. "Your boast, you see, was a little premature, Mr. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. " "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.
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