She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. " "Here you have it, my dear," returned the hawker. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. "Jack," continued Thames, addressing Sheppard, who had only just recovered from the blow, and regained his feet, "I don't ask how you came here, nor do I blame your rashness in doing so. " "Unconsciously, perhaps," replied Thames. Then you will begin to see. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol.
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