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For a long time he stared at the empty doorway. Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. I did think it could be done. The rogue took everything we had. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes.
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