How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me dreadfully to do it. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. “It is a pity that as nations we are not more friendly. Anyhow, it were me as got you down to the wetnurse.
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