She was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. By this time, Jack's reputation had risen to such a height with the populace,—his exploits having become the universal theme of discourse, that the streets were almost impassable for the crowds collected to obtain a view of him. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. She looked at him curiously. ” “Do what?” “Oh!—anything. "I can't say I do," replied Wood. "Fold it … under the pillow.
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