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"What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. But they were too late. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. Hence!" "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, in a voice, the tones of which were altered by his very anxiety to make them distinct, "listen to me. Such freedoms from such people were not to be endured.
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