“He says you are frigid, Madame. Her aunt was making herself cuffs out of little slips of insertion under the newly lit lamp. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done.
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