“I don’t believe there is one. But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense. "Granted it were as you say, Jack," said Wild;—"and I sha'n't take the trouble to contradict you—the estates would be yours hereafter. How much Mary knew is a mystery. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. Come, come, be reasonable, and listen to me.
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