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Clotilde, my child, my child! the rent collector will be here Saturday and turn us into the street!" and so fell a-weeping. A little tear-letting lightened her unrevealable burden, and she rose, rejoicing that Clotilde had happened to be out of eye-and-ear-shot. The scanty fire in the fireplace was ample to warm the room; the fire within her made it too insufferably hot!
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