Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. She had remained patently unavailable to him. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. Always. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street.
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