"Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. Maggot, dealing him a blow, which stretched him senseless on the floor. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents.
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