Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead. “Feel better. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night.
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