At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. "The night before last, Mr. Mr. ” Ramage looked at her, and then fell into deep reflection as the waiter came to paragraph their talk again. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. ‘Who’s this, then? Not soldiers again. "But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down.
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