” It was a tiny little room, daintily furnished, individual in its quaint colouring, and the masses of perfumed flowers set in strange and unexpected places. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. ’ ‘Ah, that is easy,’ she began, laughing. "No Blueskin, I perceive, Sir," he observed, in a deferential tone, as Wild entered the Lodge. 1.
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