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As usual, however, on the occasion of any great calamity, a crowd was scouring the streets, whose sole object was plunder. " "What ho! Blueskin!" shouted Jack. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces.
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