“Certainly. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. I have had my day; and there were women in it. Bird, the turner, to give him an order this evening. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside.
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