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ToC About an hour after this, Jack ventured to emerge from his place of concealment. ” She laughed. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. I think you are hard. Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest.
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