“Of course!” he said. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. " "You astonish me," said the stranger, in a voice full of emotion. " "Poor Jack!" sighed Thames. ‘There was a priest, the father confessor, you understand. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them.
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