"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. On the left lay the heights of Hampstead, studded with villas, while farther off a hazy cloud marked the position of the metropolis. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape.
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