“He is quiet only this minute,” she said to the official. "What good would it do you to destroy me? For I have courage to kill myself. Take, if you please, your own pistol. I saw it this morning in the Daily Journal—an advertisement, offering a reward—" "A reward!" echoed Jack. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. Instead, he was bowing to her greataunt.
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