Maggot lent her powerful aid, and, between the two, Jack was speedily relieved from all fears of being carried off against his will. This isn’t the place. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill.
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