When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting. I must have been very wound up. It was not a hopeful looking group. Just then, a carriage drawn by four horses, drove furiously up to the Six Bells; but Jack was too much absorbed to take any notice of it. Get on with it, then. Hastily, he reached for the door. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up.
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