“This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. They sat in the front row. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. I saw it this morning in the Daily Journal—an advertisement, offering a reward—" "A reward!" echoed Jack. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely.
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