It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. " "I don't see how this is to be effected, unless you yourself were present at the time," said Wood, glancing suspiciously at the speaker. I'm about to ring for supper. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions.
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