Spare me yet a little while, Father! not for my own sake, but for the sake of this poor babe. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. I heard only after it was all over. "I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. Now I’d like the rest of your story. He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled.
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