"I'll now pay the debt I owe you," cried Jack, tightening his grip till the thieftaker blackened in the face. “If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. "I feel like work," he lied. The white cloth was instantly dyed with crimson; but, regardless of this, Jonathan continued his murderous assault. " "Cannot?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint.
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