The stranger concluded he could not be far from his destination, and a turn in the road showed him the house. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. She came to adore them. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack.
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