For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Sc. Unless—would he hide from them as he had hidden from her? It was a big house, he said.
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