I got a rusty bolt cutter. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered. Wood was once a favourite of yours. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise.
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