"But I soon shall be," returned Jack; "take these," he added, flinging the handcuffs against the wooden partition, "and wear 'em yourself. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. She rapped again, louder. They blinded me. I don’t want you to be sad. Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest.
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