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Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it. Sheppard, whose distress at the consumption of the provisions had been somewhat allayed by the anticipation of the intruder's departure after he had satisfied his appetite, was now terrified in the extreme by seeing a light approach, and hearing footsteps on the stairs. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own.
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