’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings.
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