"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. "By my shoul!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips, "dat ish goot—very goot. “How have you been lately, Lucy? You’ve been such a stranger. Ruth went on to explain.
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