She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. ‘Only perhaps I can more readily do so if you will put down that pistol. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. " "You think so, eh?" chuckled Shotbolt, who was eagerly perusing the reward, and congratulating himself upon his caution; "you think so—ha! ha! Well, don't go to bed, that's all.
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