. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. "Halloa!" cried Jack, looking round, and trying to fix his inebriate gaze upon the speaker,—"who's that?" "Your mother," replied Mrs. She had even played in an opera by Verdi once, but had to dress as a boy to do it. As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with.
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