She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. “There is my aunt,” she said.
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