” She felt strange confessing herself to a criminal attorney. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. ” Her elation teetered in mid-air for a second, then began to flutter down around her like a badly-built house of cards. On searching the grounds, we found two suspicious-looking fellows in the garden, and had scarcely secured them, when your mother's cries summoned us hither, just in time to preserve her. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. Here would be the true test of his strength. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. " "What faith is to be kept with a felon?" replied the woollen-draper, disdainfully. "No," replied Jack, peremptorily.
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