“Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. “It was great, Shari!” She replied the stars still in her eyes. Nobody could possibly find him now. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense.
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