"Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. ‘Which is why I feel sure he will utterly repulse the girl, even if she is his granddaughter.
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