To the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. \" \"Hi, I'm Lucy Albert. White’s,” she said, “and if he is going to persist in this delusion, we cannot both remain here. You have not forgotten——” “I have forgotten nothing?” he answered, enigmatically.
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