“I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;— now to wrench it off with the bar: but all without effect. \"I guess so. " He departed, musing. Something changed for her. She had never thought of him at all in that way before.
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