He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities.
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