’ Chapter Five ‘Now then, young Jack,’ Gerald said, turning to the lad, who was sitting in the place lately vacated by his self-appointed mistress, but in a state of far less relaxation. "Back!" cried Jack fiercely: "lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. I had to stay in school no matter how sick I was. She could not make up her mind which was the finer, more elemental thing, which gave its values to the other. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. He stopped us, and, addressing Jack in a taunting tone, said, 'Well, I've been as good as my word!'—'True,' replied Sheppard; 'and I'll be as good as mine!' And so they parted. Silly, isn’t it? Undisciplined. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. .
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