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” He sat for a moment, absorbing. Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. She disengaged her hands and stood up. ‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress. Hence!" "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, in a voice, the tones of which were altered by his very anxiety to make them distinct, "listen to me. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him.
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