” He mumbled, driving on. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. Your poor cheeks are quite sunken and hollow. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. But it was otherwise with the carpenter. Her moods were many and always striking.
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