“But your sister?” he asked. She refused to eat. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a sharp glance of disapproval. "He sails to-morrow morning in the very vessel by which I start," replied Jack. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle.
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