"Have a moment's patience, Sir Rowland," returned Wild; "and you shall hear. “So you’re the one my son has been talking about. Wild. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy.
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