"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. And yet, the doctor recalled an expression of the girl's: that it was not a dissipated face, only troubled. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. Lucy replied, \"My hair has a mind of its own.
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