Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. Well, I'll be getting this tub under way. Not my affair, of course, but I think we ought to teach them more or restrain them more. ” Lucy added, growing weary. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. " "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. ” There was a shout of laughter. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday.
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