Sheppard, with a deep sigh, perceiving that her benefactor hesitated to pronounce the word. Ain't we, partner?" he added, appealing to Langley, whom punch had made rather dozy. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. Between Canton and Hartford two giants had risen, invisible but menacing— Fear and Doubt.
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