‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. “Oh, you know,” she said. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. ’ If you engage me it must be upon my own merits.
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