She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. ‘How is this? Proo-den-ss. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh. "You have always been, far dearer to me than myself," replied Mrs. 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.
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