She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. "Fly, Captain—fly!" Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors and made for the door. "Where are the boys?" "In the hall.
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