“I never dreamt!” she said. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. She wanted to live. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. The first of these, situated a the south of the building, with the exception of one ward over the gateway, was allotted to the better class of debtors, whose funds enabled them to defray their chamber-rent, fees, and garnish. "Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. If Miss Charvill should take it into her head to dash off on some foolish errand, go with her by all means.
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