Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. '—'What is it, Mint?' asked all three. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six.
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