Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different. "Then you ought to be thankful to me for the warning. " "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. “I can only repeat what I said before,” she declared. ‘That was one of my own clever stories. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. A deadlock. The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey.
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