Then she was turning, ignoring the muttered cursing and the rattling that immediately ensued at the door. She glimpsed Chinese penury when she entered a square given over to the fishmongers. As they neared the house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted and addressed his companion in a low voice:— "I don't half like this job, Blueskin," he said; "it always went against the grain. "And I," muttered Jack.
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