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" "Poor Jack!" exclaimed Thames. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. And how comes his cloak on this knave's shoulders?" "It is his cloak, of a surety," returned Rowland "Harkye, sirrah," continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; "where is the person from whom you received this mantle?" "Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer questions," replied the carpenter, doggedly.

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