Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am myself. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. That is why I was so anxious to leave Paris. " "You shall first go to Bridewell, you jade!" rejoined Kneebone.
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