Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. For the first time he seemed to wonder what it might be that she had to confess. Take a room!” “I say!” said Constance. But this is not sufficient.
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