" "Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring. As the woollendraper's back was towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued his passionate addresses. Luckily I’m not. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. And you know all about that shot. I admit it.
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