It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. Of course, at home there would have been questions. You know that. Instead, God had sent her Sebastianus, a man who had sold his soul to the Devil to gain eternal life, or perhaps he was even the Devil himself. Stir a foot, and I strike. “Certainly.
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