’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. "How are you off there, Shoplatch?" inquired Kneebone. ’ Captain Roding grinned.
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