She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. She gave her a wink when John had turned to ask Mark if Lucy could ride home with them. S. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door.
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