"I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. “Are you going on again this winter with that scientific work of yours? It’s an instance of heredity, I suppose. But in a moment she believed she understood. H’m.
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