"She has, she has," said Jack, in a broken voice. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. ’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am. “You poor little girl!” he cried. . From beginning to end it was first-hand stuff. It was obviously pitched well, hitting her head at a good thirtyfive miles per hour. There has never been a white woman at McClintock's.
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