We needn’t try and give ourselves airs. Part 3 At last the evening was over, and Capes and his wife had gone down to see Mr. This is your room. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. Yet he stays.
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