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. "I knew it. Her gratitude swelled within her. They don’t count, and I don’t care. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper began to beckon imperiously. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned.
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