The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. "Fly!" cried Jack; "escape if you can; don't mind me. Mr. She refused to eat. “What are your objections?” she said. “Sold again,” she remarked. “Don’t!” she begged. ” He looked at her intently.
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