All three, then, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. “For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was. "No bones broken, I hope," said Thames, laughing at Jack, who limped towards the bench, rubbing his shins as he went. And many of these deaths could be avoided if it were not for superstition. You forget that every one is going to the ‘Unusual’ to see her.
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