Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. “Can you take any from me?” “No, I won’t do that. ” She nodded. This gloom was impossible. There will be no avoiding it.
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