Before a word could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in the chimney, and Jack with his irons on descended from it. The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs. He would get very cross one evening and no one would dare to remind him of it. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. Hers were less noble, yet stately. It was a shame that they had made such a fuss, she thought as he arrived. Jackson’s. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me.
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