Losing his presence of mind, Jack quitted his hold, and dropped upon the frame. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. “Lucy, where is your callous? All violinists have calluses on their necks and hands from playing. What is it?" "Guess," rejoined Blueskin, attempting to throw a gallant expression into his forbidding countenance.
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