Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. "He sails to-morrow morning in the very vessel by which I start," replied Jack. . And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. She finished the olive and looked up. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them.
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