But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. ‘Take this. “Lighten up. "I guess who you mean," rejoined Shotbolt. . If I am to die in the attempt, then so be it.
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