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His eyes never left her face. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. Having seen him heavily ironed, and placed in the Condemned Hold, Jonathan recrossed the street. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. Now, Sir," he added, turning to Jonathan, as Sir Cecil and his followers obeyed his injunctions, "you say you know the road which the person whom we seek has taken?" "I do," replied Jonathan.
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