She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. It was a mad half-hour. . "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell.
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