"I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. To Capes he was almost deferential, and she had never seen him deferential in the old time, never. 5. " "As you please," replied Jonathan, sternly.
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