"I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground.
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