“Don’t lie to everyone, Lucy! You know it’s the truth!” Michelle defended herself. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-bills, (weapons then borne by the watch,) muskets, handcuffs, great-coats, and lanterns. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack.
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