Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. He had no ideas about daughters. ’ ‘Do not say so. Wood started to his feet. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs.
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