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Updated: May 21, 2025
I belong to the choir." Alfaretta had dropped the tea-towels, hot with sunshine and smelling of clover-blossoms, upon her well-scoured dresser, and then turned and looked at her mistress reproachfully. "I don't know what I am going to do if I can't practice," she said. "You don't mean to say you sing that in church?" cried Helen. "Where do you go?"
She had an armful of fresh white tea-towels, which had been put out to dry on the row of gooseberry bushes at the end of the garden, and was coming up the path, singing cheerily, with all the force of her strong young lungs. Helen caught the words as she drew near: "My thoughts on awful subjects roll, Damnation and the dead. What horrors seize the guilty soul, Upon the dying bed!
Even now I wonder what did Thomas know? What did he suspect? At ten o'clock the household had settled down for the night. Liddy, who was taking Mrs. Watson's place, had finished examining the tea-towels and the corners of the shelves in the cooling-room, and had gone to bed. Alex, the gardener, had gone heavily up the circular staircase to his room, and Mr.
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