’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. " "Ah, yes, yes; lawful husbands in these parts are those who can take and hold…. ‘I knowed he were a wrong ’un, but that. 104 < 14 > THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF JOSEPH R.
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