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. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly. ‘But I don’t trust you an inch. Of course, I can't promise you the job definitely.
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