\" He perked up, ready to make conversation. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. He reached for her, and she struck savagely. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. He dared not go on. Let me say it to you.
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