She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. One peculiarity she did not fail to notice. ” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. ” An awkward moment of silence followed. " "Alas!" cried Mrs. ‘I don’t know that I dare. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles.
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