Nor had Jack been idle all this time. The picture of Mary Remenham was still on the wall. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him. ” She laid her hand softly upon his.
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