“Dear John,” she whispered. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. \" It was a lie: Lucy ate one forced meal a day, supper. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. ” “Why shouldn’t I go?” “It isn’t a suitable place; it isn’t a suitable gathering. So good an opportunity may never occur again.
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