" "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man. Whoever this might be, the visit seemed to have some reference to the carpenter, for, shortly afterwards, Sharples made his appearance, and informed the captives they were free. He kissed her neck, moving down to her breasts, trying to consume her with passion. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation.
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