We are off for a second honeymoon. I’ve muddled all this business. "Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. “It seems so unfair,” she said, “to take all you offer me and give so little in return.
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