At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. It is always on his person. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. " And the great thief-taker indulged himself in a chuckle at the effect produced by this announcement. "But I can guess what it's for. For yonder went the loneliest man in all God's unhappy world. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice.
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