“Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. Sanguine they were not. She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. Thames did not try to cheer her. With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and, as the intercourse with London was then but slight, the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the villagers. Wily little devil she is.
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