"Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage. "You cannot understand me, Madam; and it is well you cannot. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. ” “I will think of it,” she repeated. " "At all events, let me send her away, my dear," supplicated the carpenter, anxious to avert the impending storm.
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