"To—to—no matter what," returned the widow distractedly. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. Even if you pretend sometimes to be without sense. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. It was Jack's intention to have knocked him down with the iron bar; but he was so struck with the janizary's looks, that he determined to spare him till he had ascertained his purpose. Let us search it.
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