So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. ” She said, frozen to the floor where she stood. ” He writhed. " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. “Never mind, old chap,” he declared.
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