‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. She was quite unconcerned. Listen to your mother's prayers, and do not let her die brokenhearted. The swelling in his limbs had also subsided.
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