These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. "Jonathan has threatened to do her some mischief. "I can't say I do," replied Wood. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs.
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