But the Ramage affair needed clearing up, of course; it was a flaw upon that project. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips.
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