” “It can’t prevent our loving. ” “Don’t be shy, Lucy. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. ‘Of course. A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. She saw its depraved eyes, but worse were the glittering teeth as it smiled. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding.
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