" Mr. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort.
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