” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. "I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot. “I’m mostly self-taught. " "Till midnight," replied Jack. "Yes, your son, Madam.
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