But he told me this much, that no matter how far Mr. Pity he's ta'en to bad ways so airly. "He's not to blame," said Jack, rising. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. “Her ladyship dined at home,” the man answered. It was his tall stance and his pale skin that drew him out of the crowd.
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