“Is it your maid?” he asked. "Who are you?" inquired Mrs. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. ‘Did it indeed?’ ‘I should think he’s guessed, don’t you?’ ‘Without any doubt at all. If I offered you half of my possessions, you'd doubtless wallop me on the jaw. " CHAPTER XIV. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica.
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