While they were thus occupied, a maid-servant entered the room, and stated that a person was without who had a packet for Captain Darrell, which must be delivered into his own hands. "What's that?" demanded McClintock. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. Tell me I haven’t heard.
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