His energy began to slip away and she sank her teeth into his fat carotid artery below the piano wire, which had drawn blood from his neck. ” “Don’t be shy, Lucy. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said.
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