" "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. As soon as he gets into blue water, he'll think no more of pitching the boy overboard than of lighting his pipe. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. ‘Never mind where.
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