CHAPTER XII. All through the night an entirely impossible and monumental Capes confronted her, and she argued with him about men and women. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw open the door, and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, who'se hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to plunge his sword into his breast.
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