‘Jacques, do not go!’ Jack gazed steadfastly at the floor. You are to remain here until you are well. Perhaps he had heard of this Enschede. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself.
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