Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession. You tell me he didn't like the stuff. When she spoke, her lips twitched.
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