Let us pass, Sir. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad. Wood, and however he might dissent from the latter proposition, he did not deem it expedient to make any reply; and the orator proceeded with his harangue amid the general applause of the assemblage. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time.
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