“Never mind, old chap,” he declared. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. "It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. You refuse me your confidence. You can, too, if you wish. But I dare not accept it. You know that, and I know that, though we might be put to it to find a reason why. " "I cannot repent,—I cannot pray," replied Jack, recovering his hardened demeanour. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill.
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