‘My dear boy, your loyalty is misplaced. ” Mr. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. ‘Aye, miss, like a shadow. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened.
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