" "Then you are hurt," cried the carpenter in alarm. “Please forgive me. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. Surely he was imagining this picture. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. Baffled in their attempt, the mob uttered a roar, such as only a thousand angry voices can utter, and discharged a volley of missiles at the soldiery. You see, I’m selfish. "Do you know what you are talking about, Mrs.
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