" Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. "Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. Taking off his stockings, he then drew up the basils as far as he was able, and tied the fragments of the broken chain to his legs, to prevent them from clanking, and impeding his future exertions. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. “Am I dull?” she said. His chin was angular and his lips were 16 small, his mouth tiny and refined. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. He'd never forgive you.
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