\"Really. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with. "For me—his master, Mr. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. Her nurse says she may live some time; but she seems to me to be sinking fast.
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