"Stay!" cried Wood, "this is a most perplexing business—if you really are privy to the affair——" "We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir," returned Jackson, cutting him short. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. “A man can smoke, a man can swear; A man scores always, everywhere. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. It is safe.
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