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The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. He had now reached the adjoining house, and, scaling the roof, approached another building, which seemed to be, at least, one story loftier than its neighbours. ’ ‘Yes, that is reasonable,’ agreed Melusine, nodding. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. " "Poor Jack!" exclaimed Thames.
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