" "Heaven support me!" cried Mrs. She evolved a dim image of herself cooped up in a house under the benevolent shadow of Mr. ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. "Vot are you?" "Practising patience," growled Abraham. Just by walking in you can tell if it is a good house or a bad house. But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. Not a breath was drawn. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window.
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