ToC About an hour after this, Jack ventured to emerge from his place of concealment. The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. “A number of beautiful things are not intense. Having secured this,—for he was almost famished,—he said that he had lost a hammer and wished to purchase one. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. The noose was at its throat when I called for help.
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