On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St. Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword.
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