" "That I will," replied Jack, "in the twinkling of a bedpost. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game. This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his terror, which is a phase of fascination. ” He sighed. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. He had taken it back.
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