She stared at his pleading face. Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw open the door, and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, who'se hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to plunge his sword into his breast. “No, you weren’t bad in the slightest. Or run me through. I don’t think you and Mike are right for each other. Lonesomeness isn't my worry.
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