Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips.
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