"But I soon shall be," returned Jack; "take these," he added, flinging the handcuffs against the wooden partition, "and wear 'em yourself. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough. I spied a small picture of them in your house, though. Stir a foot, and I strike. Don’t favour your father much, either, if it comes to that.
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