Upon this, Jack earnestly and eloquently addressed himself to the bench, and besought that a petition which he had prepared to be laid before the King might be read. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. “My God!” he said again. He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers.
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