"Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. Thames, you needn't tidy yourself, as you've hurt your arm. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us.
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