" "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. Spurlock advanced, the censer swung high. "I came to see Jack Sheppard, and I won't go till you point him out to me. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. Only she is not Madame Valade at all. ‘More nor that.
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