“Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. " Her utterance was here choked by sobs. " "I do not doubt it," retorted Winifred, scornfully; "because I attach credit neither to one nor the other. " "I hope they are, Sir," answered Mrs. “Do tell me all about it. They were just nice. It’s true. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint.
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