"Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. I did not know how he would act if I obstructed him. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands.
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