Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. That is good. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. Probably a sick man's whim. "Thames was always your favourite," observed Jack, as he fastened another piece of wood on the teeth of the iron stopper.
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