The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. “This isn’t a world for an innocent girl to walk about in. "Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. "Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan.
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