He’ll do. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. But it’s as you say. He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. If not, I'll take a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford, on my way to Tyburn. She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her.
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