Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. " And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth.
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