" "The ways of Providence are inscrutable," observed Wood. The stags and oxen and things all have to fight for us, everywhere. . ‘I must get a handkerchief. "You are all right?"—anxiously. ” She stopped with an air of interrogation. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too. That window there…. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd. ’ ‘That old fool? Why my brother kept him on I shall never know.
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