"Jack!" exclaimed Thames. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. Thanks. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him.
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