The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. "The devil you have! Then, perhaps, you can tell me when he intends to put his threat into execution?" "What threat?" asked Jackson. He laughed lightly. ‘Imbecile. "Can you make me other than a condemned felon? Can you make me not Jack Sheppard?" "No," replied Blueskin; "and I wouldn't if I could. “I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. "I'll tote the odiousness outside.
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