Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. I am no use for a clerk, because I do not understand shorthand. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the door pulled back. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna.
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