Recurrently she heard: "I don't know; I really don't know. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. "Can't I settle this business, Captain," muttered Blueskin, drawing a pistol. 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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