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" In this temper, it will naturally be imagined, that Mrs. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. " "You shall be treated according to your deserts, then," said Jonathan, maliciously. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. "Go in, to be sure, simpleton," replied Mrs.
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