” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. He thought he heard a scraping sound as he turned the handle. CHAPTER IV. I thank God for His sunlight on your face. Little more’n a week. Sheppard.
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