” She said. " "Where are they?" "Ay, where are they?" chorussed the mob, flourishing their various weapons, and flashing their torches in the air; "we'll starve 'em out. And not a worthy tome in sight. " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames.
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