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Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. She started at the falling of a leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge. I couldn't accept anything from you. ‘You make a game with me, I think.
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