"Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. "We shall never be able to get you out unseen, Jack," whispered Poll Maggot. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. Jackson.
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