” Lucy commented. Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. You know the sort of thing. She wished she had not stood up. “By Jove!” he said, “there is something direct about you. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate.
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