’ ‘That’s odd. ” He dropped his eye-glass with a clatter. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. " So saying, he sprang, with a bound like that of a tiger-cat, against the throat of the woollen-draper. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Austin, or any man of similar dimensions, would have found wholly impossible. She advanced, stabbing at him. This was enough for the poor widow. But Jack did not heed them.
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