Horrible!" "Poor soul! her senses are going again," said Mr. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. . "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. He kissed her ardently. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. The day is already half over. .
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