’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. It was obvious that he had waited for her. They either ran to see or ran for shelter. Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring.
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