‘Well?’ he uttered between heavy breaths. "But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me. But from the rest—you saved me. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. ’ ‘Is it, now? Well you won’t, then, for he won’t hear nothing, missie.
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