" "Mr. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. If not, keep up your spirits. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. Kneebone," she added, with a glance at that gentleman, which was meant to speak daggers, "will do as he pleases. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked.
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