“My God!” he said again. "You don't eat," continued Kneebone, addressing Jack, who had remained for some time thoughtful, and pre-occupied with his head upon his hand. He was profoundly stirred. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison.
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