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. Mr. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. "You mistake,—you are mine. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. " "That's well!" cried Jack. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. "You'd better surrender quietly, Jack," he cried; "you've no chance.
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