" "That's well!" cried Jack. "Shoot him! shoot him! Put him out of hish mishery," cried the Jew. "Two hundred pounds!" exclaimed Ireton, "besides the governor's offer—that's three hundred. He was not particularly grateful for the present situation. I can't bear it. ” “That settles it. ” “Pretty name. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night.
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