” He greeted her. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. " "Nothing," echoed Wood furiously. " "For mercy's sake, go on!" cried Winifred. So she approached him with sandwiches. The mummies were tossed into the collection. He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. Still, they bob up occasionally. " And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth. I want to make you feel that here is a place where the crowd does not clamor nor ill-winds blow. .
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