The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. Spare me, and I'll be quiet—quiet —quiet!" "Mother!" said Jack, advancing towards her. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. .
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