You hurt the child. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. "Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense.
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