" "Bless you! bless you!" cried Mrs. I ought to stay the night through; but I'm late now for an operation at the hospital. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate.
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