His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. Celeste he knew. “Are these ordinary sapphires?” she said. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling.
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