Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them, as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to look out of his hiding place, dismounted.
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