She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. This key," he added, taking it from the boy, "was purloined from me by your father, Jack. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. ’ ‘Then you shall no longer do so.
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