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He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. " "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. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk.
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