’ Charvill eyed the girl with resentment. 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. She felt the whack from about six feet away, kitty corner. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality.
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