Wood; "I'll not bear it. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. "Poor creature!" ejaculated Wood. CHAPTER XVII. "And now," cried Jack, leaping up, "for an achievement, compared with which all I have yet done shall be as nothing!" CHAPTER XVII.
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