Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. You want to do everything with your mind. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds.
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