Further on, there was a small chandler's shop, where Jack observed an old woman seated at the counter, attended by a little girl. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. "No prize shall indushe me to enter dat horrid plashe again. . She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand.
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