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The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition. "I knew that would bring him to," thought Wild. Let us have no more of this humbug. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. “Uh, I think I might, Shari. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. "But this need give you no uneasiness," pursued Jonathan; "Mrs.
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