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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. There it was—to be borrowed. “I refuse. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. ’ ‘But it is stupide.
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