These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. ‘Quite wrong, monsieur. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not.
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