‘Yes, but quite my own fault. " "Who is he?" asked Thames impatiently. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. The door opened. . And then, there would be the question of money.
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