‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. I don’t conceal it. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. “Now you must go,” she said firmly. I have come thirteen thousand miles for this young fellow; I'm ready to go galloping thirteen thousand more.
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