I should like to have had you forgive me. “Well?” she said. As he crossed the cellar, he passed so near to Jack who had concealed himself behind a piece of furniture that he almost touched him. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved.
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