"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. ’ ‘You see,’ Melusine explained between mouthfuls of food, ‘poor Marthe had promised to my father that she will say nothing. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him.
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