"
"On my soul, Thames, you wrong me!" replied Jack, passionately. Their conversation degenerated again and again
into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. ‘You’re not going to kill me
this time. "Well, I'm not far from the mark. The likelihood is
that I shan’t see the wench again. I do not think you quite understand
my ideals or what is becoming as between father and daughter. "
"No. "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. Very doubtful. Her heart's in the right
place, at all events; and, since that's the case, the rest may perhaps come round,
—that is, if she gets through her present illness. "I don't know; I really don't know. You don’t know
about Mary because you live in Kent. The next morning came a compact
letter from her father. For some time after he was locked up in this prison Jack continued in a very
dejected state. With his foodle doo!
This carpenter he had a wife,
The plague and torment of his life,
Who, though she did her husband scold,
Loved well a woollen-draper bold.
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