Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. “The things involved in it are,” he answered gravely. Mr. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. I knew him in spite of his dress.
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