As he was about to descend his chains slightly rattled. John’s parents were won over. No, not one little bit. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. ‘You are there. Then there was also the horse. ” “You are not a coward,” she repeated, “or you would not be my friend.
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