" "You hear, my son," said the widow eagerly. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. ‘And if he is dead I know not. "Before to-morrow morning I will ascertain what has become of Thames, or perish in the attempt. But they been good to me, they have, sir. Shall I bring off anything?" he added, looking eagerly round. He measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his hand.
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