During this movement, Jack grasped the barrel of his pistol, held in his breath, and motioned to Blueskin, who bared a long knife, to keep still. Ever since the young police officer had arrived on her doorstep the clock had started ticking faster. He was fast rising to an eminence that no one of his nefarious profession ever reached before him, nor, it is to be hoped, will ever reach again. I don’t think of you as a kid.
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