McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Perhaps it was just as well there was no inherited memory. ‘I must. ’ As if to bear her out, the door opened at this precise moment to admit Saling, who barely announced Captain Roding before the man himself strode into the room.
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