She hurried with Jack as fast as she could to the open door to the passage. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. "Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. ” Lucy chuckled at the sacrilegious comment, though it was a very old one.
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