He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. Every drop of blood in her body glowed and expanded. "It's Mrs. We, ourselves, are scarcely the same we were twelve years ago. And Gosse had been still there, so Martha said, and not in prison.
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