" "I don't object to the likeness, if any such exists, young Sir," returned Jackson, darting an angry glance at Thames; "indeed I'm rather flattered by being thought to resemble a gentleman of Mr. ‘She’s gone. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. She approached a soft-looking bespectacled girl she had seen once in the halls and noticed for her haunted look. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. Without care he will die. "For the caption!" replied Jackson, coolly drawing a brace of pistols from his pockets.
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