They're only just gone, mercy on us! what a clatter," she added, as the knocking was repeated more violently than before. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village.
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