Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. "Good night!" "Blueskin," whispered Jack, in his natural tones, as the other passed him, "wait without. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive. "Granted it were as you say, Jack," said Wild;—"and I sha'n't take the trouble to contradict you—the estates would be yours hereafter. . You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. " CHAPTER XX To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind him, shutting out the old world.
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