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CHAPTER XXII. " So saying, she retired, and Jack entered the cell. Jackson, gallantly. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. A shudder rippled across his shoulders. “I like you very much John. " "That's what troubles me," rejoined Ben. ‘He told me everything, if you mean Gerald. At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. ’ Gerald grinned.
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