“I was sick of the make-believe. Her parents left two weeks later, the weather still fine. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it.
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