She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. "What has happened?" asked Sister Prudence. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. "You are very kind," said Jack, returning the money; "but I don't require assistance. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it.
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