” “Excuse me,” Mr. "May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. “It is a hateful story. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. I’ve made up my mind. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool.
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