"My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest. Emile looked at her, then down, and clearly caught the bright gleam on the floor. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father.
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