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" "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. “The fact is—I don’t know why—this takes me by surprise. "Your faults were the faults of circumstances. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. "The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. She thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all. I can get into my clothes.
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