He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. "What a very remarkable thing it is," he observed, applying to his snuff-box, "that Thames Darrell, whom we all supposed dead,"—Kneebone in his heart sincerely wished he had been so,—"should turn out to be alive after all. Ladies with weapon’s on ’em. He fended these things off from him with the rump of his fourth piece of cake. III. "But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down.
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