She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. \"The servants will hear you!\" \"I don't care! Why do you?” She cried.
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