“Suppose, for example, I go to this dance?” “You won’t. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. I was grateful.
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