"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. ‘Seen her again, have you? Well, if she’s been giving you as much saucy impudence as I’ve had to contend with, I can only say I’m glad of it. After you went he got up and took refuge in the preparation-room.
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