The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. “I can’t! He appears to be a most immovable person. I do not understand why you and your sister should not see more of one another. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. He recognised Anna, and at once addressed her. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting.
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