’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. " "Entreat a fiddlestick!" retorted Mrs. Sheppard, shuddering violently. ’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest.
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