“I’m ready,” said Ann Veronica, closing her microscope-box with a click, and looking for one brief instant up the laboratory. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. She opened one and found herself in a large untidy room set with chairs that were a little disarranged as if by an overnight meeting. "When I went through your trunk that first night, I discovered an envelope filled with manuscripts.
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