Probably the thought most remote from the mind of Asaph Holmes, as his dingy wagon gritted along the ribbon of sand that bound together the hamlets of Belleport and Wilton, was matrimony. He was a shy man with only a limited acquaintance among women. Moreover he considered himself to be well enough off as he was. His small cottage overlooking the horseshoe enclosure of Belleport harbor was cosy as a schooner’s cabin and within it he could do as he pleased without running the risk of being nagged, prodded or reformed.…
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