That boy was the carpenter's apprentice, Jack Sheppard. The Ragged Edge. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket. She laughed altogether in her old manner. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest.
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