Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Suppose he does. Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. ’ ‘I thought you were dead,’ Melusine confided. ’ ‘Perfectly correct, my boy. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor.
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