“You are Mademoiselle Pellissier?” he asked, without rising to his feet. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. I believed I was strong enough to go on in silence; but I'm human like everybody else. ” “Of course I am. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. " "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. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. “We have a small studio,” she murmured, “in the Rue de St.
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