As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. ‘Coward,’ she threw at him, brandishing the sword. When he recovered his mental faculties, he would lie there, neutral; they could save him or let him die, as they pleased; and the doctor knew that he would wear himself out forcing his own will to live into this neutrality. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. She went to her bedroom, but she did not go to bed. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful.
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