Listen, Jack. Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him since the trial. "I'm sorry for old Newgate that another jail should have it. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service.
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