"Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. " "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you.
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