Won't you, Jack?" "That I will," answered Sheppard, eagerly. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. “It’s no sort of good, Ann Veronica, pretending one does believe when one doesn’t. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. I'll stamp twice when we've done.
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