” “Damn!” he remarked at the defaced letter; and, taking a fresh sheet, he recopied what he had written. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. It’s the feinting tricks you have to watch for. A week later the manuscript was polished and typewritten, ready for the test. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. " "On my soul, Thames, you wrong me!" replied Jack, passionately.
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