” She looked down at the flowers, still in shock, and gently laid them over her arm like a Miss America candidate practicing a crowning ceremony at a pajama party. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. Jack was in excellent spirits; and by his wit, drollery and agreeable demeanour, speedily became a great favourite with the turnkey, who allowed him every indulgence consistent with his situation. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. Who is the other?” “What other?” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. One nail drives out another, it's true; but the worst nail you can employ is a coffin-nail. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor.
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