"Once for all, I shall go. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. “Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence.
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