"Tut, tut! Don't exaggerate. So far, however, was this submission from producing the desired effect, that it seemed only to lend additional fuel to her displeasure. ’ She giggled suddenly. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. Although she had said a great deal when she heard about the shooting that had left poor Jack so badly injured. That’s— that’s my private life. He kept that, but the rest. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir.
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