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Get nothing out of me. " CHAPTER XI. And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. You must remember, you've just begun to read; you haven't any comparisons. The land about these walls is a common graveyard. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. Then I came to London and tried almost everything—all failures. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. “I shall not speak,” he said, “now or at any other time.
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