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"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone. "I don't know. How she learned of her heritage I do not know, but you need not imagine that it is greed that drives her. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly.
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