" 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. She had nothing to say for herself. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground.
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