As to his mother, I've no pity for her. Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. " "I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. But I have powerful friends. "They shan't have the opportunity," replied Kneebone.
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