It isn’t. I arrived here with something less than five pounds in my pocket. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. "You'll not be offended, I hope," returned Wood, drily, "if I say that your voice, your manner, and, above all, your very extraordinary way of laughing, put me strangely in mind of one of the 'droll dogs,' (as you term them,) who helped to perpetrate the outrage I've just described. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. Anything that might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. I won’t try. ‘Looks like it. Still—you must learn for yourself.
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