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" "My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence," replied Jack, humbly. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied.
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