Martin’s parents looked at each other in embarrassed, silent communication. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. "I am expected, I find," observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board.
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