" "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. And, without another word, he seized the table with both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes, bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. ‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps. “Did they ever try it for themselves?” He wrestled his chin between her thighs as she tried to squeeze her legs shut upon his ears. "Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it.
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