“I don’t know. Tell me all that happened, one sister-woman to another. Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. "Hush!—come hither, and I'll tell you. Martha had been more to her than that.
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