" As he said this, the carpenter patted the cheek of the little object of his benevolent professions, and, in so doing, unintentionally aroused him from his slumbers. It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. It would be swindling. “She’s going to have some sort of meal with the Widgetts down the Avenue, and go up with them. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. Lucy could see the resemblance of Martin to both of his parents as plain as day. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. “Very good,” he said. ’ ‘It’s no use blaming me, Gerald,’ uttered Roding, shrugging helplessly as his senior turned questioning eyes on him.
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