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Sophronia groaned and covered her face with her apron. "Ain't there ain't there no chance, Doctor?" gasped the Captain. "Certainly, there's a chance. If I could administer antitoxin by to-morrow noon the patient might recover. What time does the morning train from Boston arrive here?" "Ha'f-past ten or thereabouts." Dr.
When I turned around, there was Beriah watching 'em too, and he was smiling for the first time that morning. But it was one of them kind of smiles that makes you wish he'd cry. At ha'f-past ten it begun to sprinkle; at eleven 'twas raining hard; at noon 'twas a pouring, roaring, sou'easter, and looked good for the next twelve hours at least. "Good Lord!
"Thank you, sir!" she said, with evident relief. At a trace of doubt in my words or face, she would have broken down. "Don't be a goose, ghostie," said I. "Sit down and get warm! And how are you. Job? Much obliged to you both." "We'n ridden main hard to get here, sir. Your mon didna get t'our 'ouse afore one o'clock, an' we wor on the way afore ha'f-past. Gom! We wor that'n. Our Nance nearly bust.
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