Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. " "Time will show," replied Jack with equal haughtiness. “You’ve grown out of them. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity.
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