Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. There was more shouting. ’ ‘But, sister, I—’ ‘Get along!’ Melusine gave Jack a smile as he cast a worried look at her, and nodded dismissal. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen.
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