"Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. “Oh my God! You sounded like my Grandma just now! How did you do that?” He asked, shocked.
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