Jackson smiled and put on the air of a man who knows more than he cares to tell. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects. " "Here's a particular account of Jack's many robberies and escapes," roared the hawker,—"how he broke into the house of his master, Mr. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom.
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