Easily. “I am bored,” she said abruptly. " "Good news will be news to me. With the extra seventy-five pounds she had put after birthing her final son, Steven, her knees weren’t in good shape to be running up and down stairs all day. “To me it seems serious enough. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you.
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