“You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. " "On my soul, Thames, you wrong me!" replied Jack, passionately. Near the body, which, it will be surmised, was that of Abraham Mendez, two ruffianly personages were seated, quietly smoking, and bestowing no sort of attention upon the new-comers. ‘Because I love you. Get it off your soul. " "Pity!" shrieked the widow.
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