"Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly. “It’s your birthday today, May Day. “Thank you, Martin,” she replied graciously. . Worse than any man. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. ’ ‘I don’t want to think it,’ he said, and she thrilled to the savagery in his tone. And many of these deaths could be avoided if it were not for superstition.
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