I didn’t believe him and I said so. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. If you owe your confinement to me, you shall owe your liberation to me, also. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question.
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