As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. The houses overhung in a frightful manner, and looked as if the next gust would precipitate them into the river. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. "Shall I help you on with it, Sir?" replied the Jew, becoming suddenly respectful. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. I shan't let you off a farthing. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. The cook tried to ply her with spiced meat and fish soup. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. "You must be a cleverer lad than even I take you for, if you get out of this place. Lady Trafford, supposed to be childless, broken in health and spirits, frail both in mind and body, is not likely to make another marriage. " "Be it so," replied Jack, putting up his blade.
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