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" "Force shall not make me yours till Jack is free," replied the widow, resolutely. "Do you think I'd take the trouble to announce him? These are persons of consequence, I tell you. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. "I shall want a bottle or two of sack, and a flask of usquebaugh.
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