"There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. I am determined to fight my own little battle with the world —there must be a place for me somewhere, and I mean to find it. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. Stanley, and was so evidently pleased that Ann Veronica’s heart smote her.
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