"I know not—and care not," replied Jack. She leaned a little towards him. “As it is doubtful whether the man will live, we should be glad if you would identify him. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. Wood laughed louder than ever. Wild of the circumstance. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. . .
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