John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. “It may be true, but it isn’t quite what I have in mind. “In private. I wonder whether you would mind, Lady Ferringhall,” he went on, with a sudden glance at her, “if I tell you that you yourself remind me a great deal more of what she was like then, except of course that your complexion and colouring are altogether different. It had been a trying day.
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