“Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. What are you to do with a mad mother at a time when you need all your wits to take care of yourself?" "Don't concern yourself further about me," returned Jack. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen.
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