"Hold hard," cried he, addressing the waterman; "I'll give the gentleman a lift. I'm not particular what or where. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance. I’m so glad you’re not angry. If individuality means anything it means breaking bounds— adventure.
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