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Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. When I think of it—” “But these are things I want to tell you now!” “I made a little song of it. . ’ ‘Oh, yes I do,’ Martha said, getting up off the bed. I can't concentrate on my work. ‘Well said, my dear. A noise was next heard, as if some instrument were applied to the door with the intent to force it open, and Jack's fears were at once dispelled, At first, he had imagined they were officers of justice, come to convey him to a stronger prison: but the voice of one of the parties, which he recognised, convinced him they were his friends.
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