The room seemed a vacuum. All about her, hither and yon, lay the enticing Unknown. Rhea spun round and sank her teeth into Lucy’s arm. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. “It’s not for us to supplicate any more. I do—with all my heart. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. Meet me.
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