She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. “One is always playing the surgeon, one kills always the thing one loves best. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. “I will send you a copy,” Mr. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. "He shan't trouble you further.
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