" "Not I," replied Jack; "I'm too comfortable where I am. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. On the orders of Mr Jarvis, that were. . A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast.
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