"What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. Yet there was nothing for her to do. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. His mind was busy with a résumé of yesterday's unusual events. He showed me a black mark under his ear, where the noose would be tied. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. You told me he was going back to Newgate after supper, so I mayn't have another opportunity. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. Earles’ office, “was your last resource.
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