Mr. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat. ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city.
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