‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. . Burn your palette and your easel. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated.
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