For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. You are NOT going to that ball!” Ann Veronica tried a less genial, more dignified note. "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.
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