The Widow and her Child. So I made haste and recovered. "I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. Feeling rather exhausted, it occurred to him that possibly some provisions might have been left by the constable; and, looking about, he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf on the floor. . ’ ‘But it is a very good English name,’ she protested.
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