"I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. “I am happy. Whatever those rights may be, whoever I am, my heart is yours.
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