In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. I love you still, Anna, but life holds other things than the love of man for woman. She resolved to go into the City to Ramage and ask for his advice. If you have enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review – it does help so much. "Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack.
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