58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. " And, with this generous resolve, he shouted at the top of his voice, "Arrest! arrest! help! help!" seconding the words with a shrill and peculiar cry, well known at the time to the inhabitants of the quarter in which it was uttered. Little by little, she stopped hating him. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. Anna had told me that he carried always with him this bogus marriage certificate.
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