To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. . ‘It must seem strange to you at first. “Of course you don’t. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. Return to him, I say—" "I can't," replied Jack, doggedly.
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