Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. Jackson, to the swig. Again, he would ask a few questions, and Ruth would answer them. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. ‘Tee-ree-sa. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals.
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