‘I wish you joy of the wench. The cook tried to ply her with spiced meat and fish soup. He is the one who has said that she must go to the convent. The babies that the woman—your wife—refused to stop creating. He still watched her and questioned her. "Something's wrong. . "If you two loved each other," went on the doctor, "there would be something to stand on—a reason why for this madness. " "Oh! how much I owe him!" said the widow, with fervour, "for bringing me here, and removing me from those dreadful sights and sounds, that would have driven me distracted, even if I had been in my right mind. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded.
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