The looming face was 71 over her own once again, and arms as strong as iron bars held her down. I am not a madman, or a pauper, or even an unreasonable person. "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.
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