Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;— now to wrench it off with the bar: but all without effect. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. He was six blocks away from his home, a ten story building apparently made solely of glass.
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