Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. But she was disturbed, mysteriously disturbed. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. While he was thus employed, his nerves underwent a severe shock. Seemed like he knew so much—more than me, miss. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered.
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