” “Relaxation, perhaps. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. “A Socialist of the order of John Ruskin. I don't know anything about you. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. “To be my eternal love. "But I soon shall be," returned Jack; "take these," he added, flinging the handcuffs against the wooden partition, "and wear 'em yourself.
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