” “Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends inside his coat. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. . In this attempt he was, however, foiled by the agility of the carpenter, who managed to retreat to the door, against which he placed his back, kicking the boards vigorously with his heel. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. "Or the street," returned Jack: "mind my words, the prison's not built that can keep me.
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