His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. ” She gave him a Marboro which he lit with a Zippo with an American flag on it. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. Wood the carpenter.
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