F. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. One nail drives out another, it's true; but the worst nail you can employ is a coffin-nail. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. I haven't much money; I don't know how much it is going to cost me to reach Hartford; so I fixed over a couple of my mother's dresses.
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