The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. He touched it again, and this time it was not withdrawn. Jack was almost afraid of speaking; but at length he summoned courage to call out "Mother!" "Who's there?" asked a faint voice from the bed. "It's very well you haven't crushed the poor little thing to death with this confounded clothes'-bag. “I believe that he would bore me.
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