’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. The Master of the Mint, in the exercise of his two-fold office of governor and publican, was mounted upon a chair, and holding forth to his guests in a speech, to which Mrs. He would repeat them innumerable times, and patiently Ruth would repeat her answers. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. .
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