" "Curse you!" cried Jack, furiously,—"curse you!—curse you!" "Swear away, Captain," rejoined Blueskin, coolly. And he, her lawful husband, dared not go to her and console her! Accursed—all of them— Enschede, Ruth, and himself. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. And now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have a little quiet chat together.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 07-07-2024 17:06:33
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