There are only a few jobs over here for a man of your type; and even these are more or less hopeless if you haven't trained mechanical ability. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. I'm almost sorry I've sworn to hang you. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed.
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