Jack had well-nigh fallen too. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. The condition of the rooms was indescribably filthy and disgusting; nor were the habits of the occupants much more cleanly. He encouraged her to join him in his debauchery. ‘This idiotic female—’ ‘This imbecile has made me—’ ‘—made me lose my temper, and I—’ ‘—cut him with my dagger, and he is—’ ‘—damn near slit her throat!’ ‘—bleeding like a pig!’ ‘Whoa, whoa!’ stormed the captain, starting forward.
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