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Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave. Courtlaw. As to Jack Sheppard, he appeared utterly reckless and insensible, and did nothing but whistle and sing the whole way. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably.
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