"Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. "Wretch!" cried Jack. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. Oh dear!—oh dear! Be careful of him," she added to her husband, "and get it over quickly, or never expect to see me again.
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