" "So I've found out the way to move her," thought the carpenter; "those tears will do her some good, at all events. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. John picked it up and put it in her hands. It was the gratification of an immense necessity. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. “She can’t. But a little daughter is one thing and a daughter quite another.
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