"Give me the child, or—" As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. "Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the candle from the lantern, the better to display the narrow limits of the hole. "You're a bold fellow, Jack," rejoined the blacksmith. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself.
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