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At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. " CHAPTER XV. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. It was the grand nursery of vice. Hope reared. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. " "You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph.
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