She cried out with the pain of it. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. “I am convinced you haven’t thought this out,” he went on. "You may," replied Jack: "I'll fight for you to the last gasp.
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