" "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. It does not matter to him either way. After class his routine was unchanged. In the genuinely dissipated face there was always a suggestion of slyness in ambush, peeping out of the wrinkles around the eyes and the lips. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood.
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