’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. “What were you doing?” Her voice was a little hysterical. ‘Don’t lose your temper again. She came to her one day and pulled on her apron. Wood's," was the reply. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. I can't keep a good man beyond three pay-days. .
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