“Tut, tut!” he said. “Nor am I now,” he answered. Before Marthe will become impatient and come out. “By Jove!” he broke out, “one tries to take a serious, sober view. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door.
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