It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. Luckily I’m not. But Bess could scarcely summon resolution enough to hazard the experiment; and it was only on Jack's urgent intreaties, and even threats, that she could be prevailed on to trust herself to the frail tenure of the rope he had prepared. The boy doesn't know it, but I dug into his trunk for something to identify him and stumbled upon some manuscripts. Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. And Pottiswick, of course.
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