" McClintock whistled. " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. But his grief was of short duration. They can’t help seeing things in the way they do. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon.
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