"Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. The first peg was torture. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. She felt herself shaking again. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. And while her son was reconveyed to prison the body of the unfortunate Mrs.
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