We already had a place to mislay blame. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. Can’t ask the gent to go abroad and condone a bigamy. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. T' other gen'l'man said the letter 'ud explain all.
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