“I’ve been looking out for you,” he said. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. Lucy pinned her hair off her neck and hoped it would make her to look decidedly older. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him.
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