She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. But it sounds too real to be imagined. And such slight relief as I can afford should have been offered earlier, if I'd known where you'd taken refuge after your unfortunate husband's—" "Execution, you would say, Sir," added Mrs.
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