“I believe that he would bore me. “I don’t know. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. CHAPTER XXXII. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. I too can see it.
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