" "You shall first go to Bridewell, you jade!" rejoined Kneebone. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. Steeples toppled, and towers reeled beneath its fury. Nothing is wrong that you do. Drawing the pay of life and then not living. Pausing at each door on the landing, Jack placed his ear to the keyhole, and listened intently. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative.
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