"If you've done wrong, confess it, and I'll forgive you!" "I don't deserve to be forgiven!" returned Jack, bursting into tears; "for I'm afraid I've done very wrong. I presume that I may not kiss you in the street?” “Certainly not, sir,” she replied, laughing. They bickered frequently now as Gianfrancesco protested the prices of things like funeral candles and poultices to comfort the dying. Then she was out of the door and running, fast. The girl nodded sagely. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself.
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