Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. "Well," growled Blueskin, "you've had my offer. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. She was good to me for the two years I stayed with her, she had a nice apartment in Galveston. He was beginning to think about her inordinately.
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