If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. “How unkind!” she exclaimed. The latter appeared to contain several papers, which Jack carefully put by, in the hope that they might turn out of importance in a scheme of vengeance which he meditated against the thief-taker.
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