"Curiosity, I suppose," returned Jack, carelessly. " "Forgive you!" echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight. Kneebone was attired in the extremity of the mode. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. Arrived at the secret door, she grasped the lever that opened it and placed the lantern on the floor. Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. He bent to her hand, and she slipped off the ring and gave it to him to examine.
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