" "That's better. ” “Blood of my heart!” whispered Capes, holding her close to him. " "No fear of that," laughed Kneebone. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. Gerald’s temper flared.
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