Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. At the same time Sydney and Brendon also vacated their places. "You'll be as good as your word, my charmer," whispered the executioner. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold.
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