“Tell me his name,” he said, “and I promise that he shall never trouble you. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. ’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body. ’ ‘I think he only wants to help you, miss,’ offered Jack. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. “I am sure of it. The jailers robbed the prisoners: the prisoners robbed one another.
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