"I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. She climbed back into the window an hour before sunrise. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. "I can't say," answered the fellow; "but I'll inquire from the sexton, William Morgan.
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