"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. D'ye hear. " While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. There’s no logic in these things.
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