She was weeping now. "I tell you what, Mr. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. All of us were fussy, colicky babies from what she tells me. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. "Think not to deceive me, monster. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday.
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