"I'll lay my life he's gone on a fox-and-goose-chase to Mr. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. " "Vy don't you talk to your partner, or Saint Giles, if you vant conversation, Aaron?" asked Jack, slyly.
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