"What do you mean?" cried Winifred in alarm. Melusine sighed with relief and set to work by the light of the lantern. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. C.
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