Taking his new purchase under his arm, Jack proceeded to a small tavern in the same street, where, having ordered dinner, he went to a bed-room to attire himself. ‘Never fear, my love. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. " "You're not going to betray me!" cried Jack, in alarm. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption.
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