“Thanks to you. " "And leave you thus?" rejoined Jack. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. "Here we part,—perhaps for ever. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. ‘When you say it like this, certainly it appears absurd. .
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