" Jack could stand no more. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. " "You've been misinformed, Sir," interposed Smith. I’m a soldier, you see. ‘Ah, no,’ Gerald uttered at once, lowering his voice and infusing it with all the promise he could command. " "Jack's a noble fellow," exclaimed the head-jailer of Clerkenwell Prison, raising his glass; "and, though he played me a scurvy trick, I'll drink to his speedy deliverance.
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