8. " "On that night, you first met me, love," said Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to take his hand, which he coldly withdrew. It was bad luck to go to Canongate. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. " While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. "And who is this Van Gal—Gal—what's his outlandish name?" "Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. “I want to have no distractions. ” They left the restaurant just as the rain slowed to a dull trickle, the fury of the storm exhausted, having left mirror puddles in its wake.
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