"If you doubt my word, woman," replied the carpenter's wife, coldly, "ask Mr. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away.
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