" "Try to leave the room, and see whether I daren't," returned Jack, opening the blade. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. 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. Now if you are ready to go with me, I too am ready. " "It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair.
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