He said that his life was boring and stupid without her. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating.
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