‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. Maybe it’s his loss. “How fortunate I am, Miss Pellissier! All day I have been hoping that I might run across you. From thoughts of fame to thoughts of mere bread and butter! It seemed to Spurlock that he had tumbled off the edge of Somewhere into the abyss of Nowhere. What's-your-name?" "Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer.
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