It was if the world had blinked out for a moment. One can learn and understand only by personal experience, by actual contact with the realities of life. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. And when there is no longer any need to use it, why then, enough you say—and throw it away. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. She ignored his question. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss.
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