‘You’re either mad, or in love. Mr. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. ’ ‘Not dead, miss. I could be presented as Meysey Hill. She had no place she loved. Let’s go. Ah!" he exclaimed, as his eye fell upon a small knob in the wall, "there's the spring!" He touched it, and the door flew open.
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