"Sign this," he said, pushing the document towards Sir Rowland. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. “It is nothing of any importance. " "Not I," replied Jack; "I'm too comfortable where I am. “And where are YOU going?” he said. He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be. And sometimes he overflowed with a peculiarly malignant wit that played, with devastating effect, upon any topics that had the courage to face it.
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