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1 " Well, what was it to be a thief? He met the question at last, face to face, wiping the clammy drops of sweat from his forehead. God made this money - the fresh air, too - for his children's use. He never made the difference between poor and rich. "
― Rebecca Harding Davis , Life in the Iron Mills and Other Stories
2 " The note is the same, I fancy, be the octave high or low. "
