“There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said. The crowd dispersed in different directions, and most fortunately a heavy shower coming on, put them altogether to flight. "Come on, my lads!" vociferated Blueskin, "we'll unkennel the old fox. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him.
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