’ A laugh escaped her. I sha'n't cry any more. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. Prudence attacked her chicken wing. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible.
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