But David Courtlaw has been here. "Poor creature!" ejaculated Wood. Her body went into spasm. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. She was wan and white. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. The delay was only momentary. I pray, Anna, that you may find your happiness.
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