"Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. “A glass slipped from the table,” he explained. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct.
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