Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. It was cheating, pitiful cheating. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. It makes wonderful sentences that you can repeat in the City and are good enough for Punch. Mr.
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