She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. . I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest.
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