” She roused herself from some dream at the word. " He opened his eyes again. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. She longed to enjoy human food as he did.
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