The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. " "I don't mind the throuble," hesitated Terence, who was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom; "and I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. Never had she seemed to him so much like Anna.
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