His tone was kind and sympathetic. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. For the love of Heaven, Jack, don't move!—Don't alter a muscle, if you can help it. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant.
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