“You are the type that I want to marry someday, you’ve got a beautiful body, such pretty eyes. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. "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. ’ ‘Do you indeed?’ rejoined the old lady, twinkling at him, and urging him towards the door.
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