Observe it—a blue-serge coat. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Will you unlock that door?” “Never!” he said. "I told you I would call to bid you farewell, Mr.
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