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It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. ’ Jack Kimble took a deep breath. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief.
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