In truth, she had been quite glad to lose the argument about remaining while the bullet was dug out of Jack’s side. The Procession to Tyburn 462 XXXII. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. C below. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree.
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