“Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. ” A flush of excitement crept into her cheeks. "Farewell!" cried Jack, embracing them. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith.
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