2. "I told you the prison wasn't built that could hold me," cried Jack. A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle neck, shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to the provident kindness of Mr. I wouldn't keep an apprentice to set my authority at defiance. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. That—that isn’t living! You are beside yourself.
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