“You cannot say that you did not expect me,” he answered. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. "Heaven help us!" he exclaimed; "we were mad to neglect the old sailor's advice. "Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. " "She has suffered enough for you," said Wood. Mrs. Something he saw there had a curious effect upon him. This is part of a dream— some evil fancy.
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