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She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. "He is," returned Quilt, significantly. "I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. The last observation, however, caught the attention of the carpenter's wife. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. The boy was coming around.
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