" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. I pray you, Gérard, do not fail me. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. I should only disappoint you terribly some day.
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