She kept thinking she was thinking about Mr. “What made you think” he said, abruptly, with the gleam of avidity in his face, “that love makes people happy?” “I know it must. ‘So I shall do so. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ‘That I do not yet know. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred.
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