" "I feel it," replied Jack, in a tone of agony, "and I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my own. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. I’ve had a lot on my mind. ***** Coconuts grew perpetually. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring.
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