Nothing at all. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. Nice position. "Your sister is dead," said he, in a deep whisper. It’s all nonsense. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. So dreadful were these shouts as to produce an effect upon the hardened feelings of Jonathan, who shrank out of sight. They embarked upon an open and declared friendship. "An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested.
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