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‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. ’ She was about to develop this theme, when Jack’s gaze became fixed, and his expression changed. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. Mr. Oh, Jack! repent, while it is yet time, of your evil conduct. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt.
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