“No, I’d like to. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. He flipped the television on. I saw it this morning in the Daily Journal—an advertisement, offering a reward—" "A reward!" echoed Jack. And, though neither peace nor innocence can be restored to my bosom; though tears cannot blot out my offences, nor sorrow drown my shame; yet, knowing that my penitence is sincere, I do not despair that my transgressions may be forgiven. To work then he went, and with wonderful industry filed off two of the iron bars.
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