"Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Small wonder she had learned to be self-reliant. "Before you go, bring me the bottle of pineapple rum I opened yesterday. “Not a bit of it. ’ ‘Only a few minutes, miss.
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