He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. " "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. Her aunt went off at a tangent. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. "'Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. “I can survive on my own.
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