It was horrible, but she must do it. “What a little brick!” he murmured. She found next morning, when she came to this advertisement answering, that it was more difficult than she had supposed. “Yes,” said Ann Veronica, trying to think where they were, trying to get things plain again that had seemed plain enough in the quiet of the night. 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.
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