He walked unsteadily towards the door. Vee’s all right. “It may be more difficult than you think,” she said. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. Try and let him never regret it. " The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily. A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly.
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