‘I know,’ said Prudence Sindlesham, sympathy in her tone. ” Tears flowed down her face. "Now stand before me, Poll. When Captain Darrell's birth is ascertained, I've no doubt he'll turn out a nobleman's son. "We shall never be able to get you out unseen, Jack," whispered Poll Maggot. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. Jolly nice girl, too.
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