The doctor nodded. He would take her with great force. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear.
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