"Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. She feasted reluctantly, partly out of wonder at the new function of her often elongated canines. Here again instinct guided her. . I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb.
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