Before a word could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in the chimney, and Jack with his irons on descended from it. ‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. But woe to those who disregard them! Of course, basically it is all wrong; and sometimes God must laugh at our ideas of rectitude.
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