"My portrait!" echoed Jack. ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. Lost in thought, Lucy barely heard Mrs. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. Just as Jack gained the entrance, he heard a man's footstep behind him, and aware that the slightest indiscretion would betray him, he halted, uncertain what to do. “Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time.
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