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Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. “You will have some tea?” she asked. Disillusion stands in one doorway of our house and Mockery in the other. ‘Who telled you that?’ ‘Do not ask me impertinent questions, but only go you and fetch this daughter here to me.
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