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"Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner. “My dear sweet Lucia. . . She doubted if Manning would even listen to that. He glanced out of the window, looked back at the major and grasped the handle of the door. "I've got something to say to you," continued the speaker, rather less harshly; "something to your advantage; so come out o' your hiding-place, and let's have some supper, for I'm infernally hungry. ‘Jacques, you have been very much my friend. ” “Isn’t it. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side.
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