The child was still safe. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. He shook his head. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. ‘What Frenchman would that be, missie? We ain’t let no one escape. By and by she heard the screen door.
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