The room they were in was a sort of closet, with the door locked outside; but this was only a moment's obstacle to Jack, who with a chisel forced back the bolt. "Once there," proceeded Wild, without noticing the interruption, "he's as good as in his grave. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. "Be it as you please," replied Winifred. " So saying, he scrambled over the rubbish, and got into the chimney.
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