Hilary Roding was all soldier now, his earlier grievances laid aside. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. The rest of his attire was nondescript. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble.
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