"Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs. Rollo began to cavort. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. The latter appeared to contain several papers, which Jack carefully put by, in the hope that they might turn out of importance in a scheme of vengeance which he meditated against the thief-taker. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own.
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