Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous. 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. "Well, how goes it?" he asked.
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