. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. I'll cable to-night, and in a few days we'll have some news. " "Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath. Hence!" "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, in a voice, the tones of which were altered by his very anxiety to make them distinct, "listen to me. But it is my fault.
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