” “We will go to a very quiet place,” he assured her, “a place where I have often taken my own sisters. The thing is done. So, let's think no more about it. You get the idea. I don’t. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. You're not afraid, Mr. "I shall go back and finish my supper," said Mrs. Her mind went on generalizing.
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