"My child!" he groaned faintly. Jack had well-nigh fallen too. He was dressed immaculately in a suit of heavy Shantung silk. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence. “I cannot keep silence any longer. " "Thank you! thank you!" faltered Jack, in a voice full of emotion. " "Well, well, I'm not within a minute," rejoined the turnkey. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Drink for him had a queer phase. Wood.
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