But Jack eluded their grasp. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. But his astonishment would have been great indeed had he known that not even her father had ever caressed her, either with lips or with hands. “You will go and see her,” he begged. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door.
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