" "Wretch!" cried Jack, raising his hand in a menacing manner, "your triumph will be short-lived. I have broken from prison, and am come to save you. She was retuning, fifths spilling from the sliver of light underneath the door like milk. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. You’ve got to take what you can get.
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