. ’ Shock ripped through Charvill’s chest. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. "Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him.
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