I have suffered too much from your treachery. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. . He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. Think better of it. He was looking pale and ill. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. ” It came upon him like a flash. Her wings were oddly weak, but for all that she could fly. ” “At any rate,” she declared, “your remarks decided me.
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