Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. " "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly. Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep.
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