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‘You said?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham, your great-aunt, miss. "Utterly," reiterated Jack, gloomily,—"as regards all I hold dear. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. It was empty. With a small saw, conveyed to me a few days since by Thames Darrell, which I contrived to conceal upon my person, I removed a spike in the hatch, and, with the aid of some other friends, worked my way out.
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