Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. Wood the carpenter. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. The contest, however, though desperate, was brief. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. ” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom.
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