Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. He greeted the corpulent boy at the register, whose tag read, \"MY NAME IS Jason\" with familiarity. Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds.
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