” “Then I was never married to him at all?” Annabel said. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. 'He's a good fellow, and 'twill all end well'.
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