Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. His last actions were futile. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. She turned a resolute face southward. He chuckled.
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