"Aha!" exclaimed Jackson. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued. “Well,” she achieved at last. Absolutely. "Certainly," replied Jonathan, with the most perfect sangfroid, "I'll undertake to free you from the boy. The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. O'Higgins, the American detective, and were waiting against the hour when they could assist the young man in a sudden dash for liberty. I didn’t betray you, I swear I didn’t.
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