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Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. ‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. "Because they're in the next room, and the door's shut; that's vy, my jack-adandy!" replied Abraham, unsuspiciously.
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