As he took his departure, he whispered to the Jew: "Take him dead or alive; but if we fail now, and you heard him aright in Seacoal Lane, we are sure of him at his mother's funeral on Sunday. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. But it was otherwise with the carpenter. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. He rose slowly and extended it.
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