‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. ” She could have handled ten times the weight, and hoisted him on her back and carried him too. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. "Stir a foot, at your peril. ” He returned to and developed that idea. “His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere. “I might have muddled for a time. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. He stood before her. "I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day.
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