"Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. “He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. " "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. “You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone.
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