"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. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about. " There was another pause. ’ ‘And you are of a disposition entirely untruthful,’ retorted Gerald. He impetuously grasped a hold of her hand, looking for a callous.
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