" "I'll tell you what. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. " "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. "I tell you what, Mr.
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