The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. "I'll now pay the debt I owe you," cried Jack, tightening his grip till the thieftaker blackened in the face. If there were any pearls, none came into the light. It is as if my lips had been sealed about them. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders.
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