But his grief was of short duration. " "First, let me introduce my friends," returned Jack, stepping to the door. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. After all, they’re history in the making. I shall have no faith in future in bolts and bars. The lips were straight and pale, the chin aggressive, the nose indomitable.
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