Very dark, like yours, ma’am. So I dare say I was christened Jack. But it was otherwise with the carpenter. “You could have a talk to Miss Kitty Brett this afternoon, if you liked. " "There's no hurry. " "Fear nothing. "Surely," she said, after a pause, "you don't attach any importance to what my mother has just said. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. You heard her.
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