Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. “Now I’ll have what I want from you, wife. "But never mind who, or what I am. And for me there is only one treasure-house. She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. ” She laughed softly.
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