But, holy smoke!—the Yale spirit in…. "I know exactly what I have done," replied Spurlock. A quarter of an hour passed. 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. “I think we are growing sensible,” he said. My profession has hardened me. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away.
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