His fellow-prisoners nicknamed him the gallows-provider, from a habit he had of picking out all those who were destined to the gibbet. “There I can’t help,” said Capes. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy. “Think of the mockery!” she said.
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