"Do you really think I would get married to the kind of man who would marry me?
Do you think I could if I loved him ?" A great wave of red surged over the girl's thin face, her voice trembled with tenderness.

Ellen knew at once, with a throb of sympathy and shame, that Abby did love some one.
"Do you think I would marry him if I loved him ?" demanded Abby, stiffening herself into a soldier-like straightness.

"Do you think?
I tell you what it is," she said, "I was lookin' only to-day at David Mendon at the cutting-bench, cutting away with his poor little knife.

I'd like to know how many handles he's worn out since he began.

There he was, putting the pattern on the leather, and cuttin' around it, standin' at his window, that's a hot place in summer and a cold one in winter, and there's where he's stood for I don't know how many years since before I was born.