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"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. Let me take the satchel, sir. The noise startled the apprentice, who instantly suspended his labour, and gazed anxiously in the direction whence he supposed it proceeded. She owed the nun a great deal, including her command of English, for no one else thought to ensure she could speak her mother tongue. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. “Have to take your turn,” he remarked laconically. Kneebone's 346 XIV.
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