"And now, farewell, Mr. "In favour of my son. “Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. "After him," cried Wild; "he mustn't escape. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them.
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