Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. Grudgingly he admired her. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. A strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my blood run cold with terror. " Thames was about to reply, but a glance from Wood checked him.
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