‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault. His aunt, here at McClintock's? It was unbelievable. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. Her sister’s words were true. “There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. He advanced a step towards her.
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