It throbs cruelly. And with his clenched hand he struck him a violent blow in the face. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather well. She was weeping now. ’ The lady frowned suspiciously. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Or else—Else it will be impossible that I can be his friend.
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