He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. Figg," said Jack. " "Oh, Jack!" cried his mother, falling upon his neck, and covering him with kisses. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. .
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