Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. Adjoining it was the Lower Ward,—"Though, in what degree of latitude it was situated," observes Ned Ward, "I cannot positively demonstrate, unless it lay ninety degrees beyond the North Pole; for, instead of being dark there but half a year, it is dark all the year round. " So saying, she planted herself between Jack and the turnkey. They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs.
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