‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. . ’ ‘I do not lie to you now,’ she said, near frantic at the thought of losing him. "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.
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