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Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost precipitation. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. And, though the villain can't see his orders executed, I've no doubt some one else will. " With this, he appeared to pluck up his courage, and stepped forward more boldly.
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