"Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. Shotbolt nodded in token of acquiescence, and emitted an odd guttural sound. "And now, widow," continued the ruffian, setting down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, "I've a piece o' good news for you.
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