” “He is certainly alive,” Anna declared. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. I told you no good would come of it. ’ Martha looked up, belligerence in her tone. Miss Mary being his only child ’an all, he were in a right pelter. I might as well try to build a ladder to heaven. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. It was too good to be true.
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