’ He gave the gaping Pottiswick a shove, passing him on to his junior, who was waiting patiently by the kitchen door. " "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. I can't spare you at present. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. Her gratitude swelled within her.
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