"Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. From time to time, however, he was baffled. She shook her head. Here a little delay occurred. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. I’m glad the old sore is assuaged. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. Of course, at home there would have been questions. ’ ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong.
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