"There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. "I'm not worth it. She was consumed by misery and hate. Heigho!" "Now for it!" cried Jack, as the couple entered the room: "the coast's clear. Give me your hand. Detention was merry for the other detainees.
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