‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St. Buck up. . " "Then, we'll lose no more time," returned Jack. Taking the light, they then proceeded along the passage. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing.
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