"Plague on't!" added he: "I never meant to take your babby from you. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. ” “And you can’t?” “I don’t think I ought to control myself. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. You’re the only person I’ve really given good, straight, unselfish thought to. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent.
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