“Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. It's right Nantz. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone.
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