"Mrs. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man. " "You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction. . ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne.
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