The period of repression was over. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. The weed was all right. All at once it came to him what a fool he was to worry over this phase which was wholly suppositional. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. " "Never fear," replied the lady.
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