The mob pursued the thief-taker and his party all the way, and such missiles as could be collected were hurled at them. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me. Which, let me assure you, villain, will not be so far away. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. Yet you make our Bohemianism seem like a vulgar thing. More than half the city perished.
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