I’d only get a pack of lies in reply. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. The first peg was torture. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. Oh God! my limbs fail me. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. "Do not go near him, mother," cried Jack; "do not believe him.
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