But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. He yelled to her, asking her if she wished to have a drink with him, which she refused. I’m not that sort I quite agree. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. “I made two fruit pies and now I have no one to eat them. Sheppard," cried the carpenter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too good for her.
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