We were to ransom you, then we would fake your death, play as if the kidnappers had executed you. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. But I'll be more lenient, and content myself with merely chastising you, on condition—" "You may do as you please, master," interrupted Jack, thrusting his hand into his pocket, as if in search of the knife; "but I wouldn't advise you to lay hands on me again. For the sort of love-making you think about.
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