"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. He reeled, and crashed to the floor. " "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?" "I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you," rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. " "No," cried the lady, "this room—I recollect—it has a back window.
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