Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. His blood would be sweet with it. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. May we not repeat them once, at any rate, in London? “Ever yours, “NIGEL ENNISON. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters.
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