"Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed.
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