They don’t count, and I don’t care. " As he said this, the carpenter patted the cheek of the little object of his benevolent professions, and, in so doing, unintentionally aroused him from his slumbers. That’s— that’s my private life. ’ ‘How could he when he didn’t even handle it himself? Went off, I told you, and left it all to me. And this damning evidence―’ with a brusque gesture at the portrait ‘―must also be destroyed.
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