Sometimes I tremble, Anna, to think how near I came to passing through life without a single glimpse, a moment’s revelation of this greatest and most awful of mysteries, the mystery of primaeval nature. “I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon. "Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. Wood," returned Jackson, with the utmost composure; "you're a headborough, and a loyal subject of King George.
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