Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. I hear the sound of his horse's feet in the yard. . ’ ‘About me?’ The lady’s lashes fluttered and her fan came up. Lest the carpenter should be taxed with too much uxoriousness, it behoves us to ascertain whether the personal attractions of his helpmate would, in any degree, justify the devotion he displayed.
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