” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. "He sails to-morrow morning in the very vessel by which I start," replied Jack. .
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