She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. Though they do, in secret, I believe. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. Words of encouragement and sympathy were addressed to Jack, who, as he looked around, beheld many a friendly glance fixed upon him.
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