"I can't think what to say, miss.

It lifts everythin'-- everythin'.

It's not to be believed.

It's like bein' left a fortune." When the wicket gate swung to and the young lady went up the lane, the old woman stood staring after her.

And here was a piece of news to run into Charley Jenkins' cottage and tell--and what woman or man in the row would quite believe it?
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