Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, “because we want you to do us a favour. "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat. . "Perhaps he means well. " "A boy from his shop was here a short time ago.
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