She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. "Never, Ma'am!" echoed Mr. No offence, I hope. Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and partly because of her father's mandate. "If you've done wrong, confess it, and I'll forgive you!" "I don't deserve to be forgiven!" returned Jack, bursting into tears; "for I'm afraid I've done very wrong.
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