" "My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence," replied Jack, humbly. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. "Did you ever hear me whine?" "No," admitted McClintock "You've no objection to my dropping in again later, after your guests go?" "No. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield.
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