The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. Still, one has to be reasonable. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl.
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