The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. There would be no mercy in this man. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. He was even a little jealous of Sebastian. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. "I told you the prison wasn't built that could hold me," cried Jack.
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