Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. I will do my utmost. "No," replied Jonathan, "I'll not take you at your word, as regards the latter proposition. The threadbare remainders of the dinner discussion hovered over the topics of obsessive fans of the science fiction and horror genres. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture.
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