Easy enough. “You would believe that life is kindled by the passions alone. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out. “A bad thing for me when that legacy came. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision.
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