"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. “I hope that you are going to allow me to see something of you during your stay in London, for the sake of old times. There were the burnt papers still in the grate.
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