The rainstorm, short-lived, began to subside. "I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. I knew it. An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the main post of the doorway. His literary instincts were reviving. I have taken bullets and lived, and even a silver one wouldn’t do much.
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