" "You're not come here to insult me, Mr. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. ‘She’s little more than a schoolgirl, just out. “You too sing?” he asked. ” She said, ignoring the absurdity of her own statement. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape. He has been lodged in every round-house in the metropolis, and has broken out of them all, and boasts that no prison can hold him.
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