"Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. As he approached the gable of Mrs. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. ‘What a fate he finds for me. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself.
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