She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. "Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup. ‘Come, cry a truce. He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. I am so much obliged to you for your projected benevolence.
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