And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. "I'm almost afraid to state it," faltered the other; "but, may I ask whether Mr. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging.
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