“Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. Give me your hand. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. "Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. “You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression.
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