"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. It isn’t. ‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. I just suppose it isn’t worth the trouble. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand. “I told you I did not love you.
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