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She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin.
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