She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story. "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. ‘Like a vision she were. “All right so far,” she said to herself. You’d better not have all the money on you; you had better open a small account in the postoffice and draw it out a fiver at a time. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. Why should I peep at it through smoked glass to see things that don’t affect me?” He smiled his delight at his companion.
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