Not a word passed between them. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. I hate children. She went to the basement and shed her sodden coat and scarf, tossing them into her favorite modern appliance, the electric dryer. “I have a message from your sister. She would marry him. What are you to do with a mad mother at a time when you need all your wits to take care of yourself?" "Don't concern yourself further about me," returned Jack. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days.
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