Do I, Bess, eh?" "Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess; "nobody but me, dear. The carpenter trembled; for he perceived Rowland's gaze fixed first upon the infant, and then on himself. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked.
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