Earles recovered his spirits. I’m going up to London with the Widgetts to that ball. I am certainly no ghost. " While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped. This man and he were alike, and about the same age. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No.
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