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He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another. ’ Jack Kimble took a deep breath. He had just arrived from Manchester, whence he had been summoned by that treacherous thief-taker. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. ’ ‘But it’s my affair, Melusine. . What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. Jack was not half your age when he died.
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