‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. They've paid for their lodging. Their example was immediately imitated by the officers, constables, javelin men, and other attendants; and nothing was to be heard but shouts of laughter and jesting,—nothing seen but the passing of glasses, and the emptying of foaming jugs. ‘You’ll make shadows. “But I am sorry,” she exclaimed.
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