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. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. “Your brother has gone?” she asked Sydney, between the courses.
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