The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. ’ ‘That’s easy. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. ” She realized it was possible to be sorry for him—acutely sorry for the situation. "And so this is a diamond," added he, contemplating the brilliant from the hollow of his hand: "it does sparkle almost as brightly as your ogles. His eyes were set too close together. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world.
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