Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. Her hand grasped it firmly, and she pushed herself forward. " "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly.
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