Wood!" "Leave go!" thundered Blueskin—"leave go—you'd better!"—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife. "Now, tell me why they brought you here?" "I came to see you, dear mother!" answered Jack. Eight per cent. His mother smiled in return, an act that brightened her thin face. Once inside, he looked around, worried that his parents would suddenly cancel their trip and return home.
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