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" "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. " "Vy don't you talk to your partner, or Saint Giles, if you vant conversation, Aaron?" asked Jack, slyly. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. Ask your own conscience. Without a struggle he could give up his flesh and blood like that! "I can now give myself to God utterly; no human emotion will ever be shuttling in between. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual. And no ill-chances.
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