Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. The will to live had returned. ‘Is that a gesture of friendship?’ She stamped her foot. When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his countenance fell. But an individual she never laid eyes on day before yesterday! And the minute he gets up, he'll head for the public bar. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal.
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