"Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. I’ve never had these crying fits before.
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