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"My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. What are you after?’ ‘But my pistol and dagger, imbecile,’ she exclaimed impatiently, moving sharply back. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. "Solid ivory!" he said aloud; "solid from dome to neck! That's James Boyle in the family group.
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