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Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. Jack was caught, as in a trap, by the pendant tails of Abraham's long frock; and, instead of obtaining his release by his ingenuity, he only got a sound thrashing.
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