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"I'll be his evil genius!" vociferated Jonathan, who seemed to enjoy her torture. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. ” There was a moment’s silence. ‘Don’t be so absurd. " "I cannot repent,—I cannot pray," replied Jack, recovering his hardened demeanour. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me.
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