“In a sense—yes. " "Permit me to see it, Sir James!" requested Jack. In this screen, which masked the entrance of a dark passage communicating with the Condemned Hold, about five feet from the ground, was a hatch, protected by long spikes set six inches apart, and each of the thickness of an elephant's tusk. She looked at the white ankle socks on her feet and was reminded simultaneously of her pajama outfit and the suitcase that still lay underneath the bed. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean.
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