’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. " "Palliate them as you may," replied the widow, gravely, "they were faults; and as such, cannot be repaired by a greater wrong. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. "But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully.
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