“You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. At this juncture, the sound of oars reached his ears, and he perceived Mr. " The doctor was in the middle fifties, gray and careworn, but with alert blue eyes and a gentle mouth. “Morning, Mom. ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. But I trusted to that ring of yours. Never be downhearted. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed.
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