Then she went back and mixed up the sheets in a search for particular passages. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. ‘I am not a person, Marthe. A moment afterwards, the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone.
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