The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. I don’t conceal it. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. Here we go, thought Gerald. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. "Can't I settle this business, Captain," muttered Blueskin, drawing a pistol.
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