" "Say the word, and I'm mum," returned the executioner. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. The young man looked at her. No! That was impossible. "Let me see," replied Wood; "exactly twelve years ago last November. She was radiant.
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