Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. "Who's there?" cried Rachel. "Ruth?" "Hoddy!" she cried. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room.
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