“I knew you would feel it,” said Miss Miniver, as they came away flushed and heated. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. She recoiled. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth. I make no apology for not being with you now. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft.
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