Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. "Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. Hugging him in the beautiful dress in front of the teenagers was strangely soothing to her.
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