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The key is in my trousers. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. “John. ’ ‘What, for not wanting to marry you?’ ‘Imbecile. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully.
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