Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna. ” “Yet you are very young.
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