Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. "O, lud!" she cried; "French noblemen in disguise! and so rude as I was! I shall never recover it!" "A good supper will set all to rights," insinuated Kneebone. With this view, Jack was carried—for he was no longer able to move without assistance— to a ward called the Castle, situated over the gateway on the western side, in what was considered the strongest part of the jail. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said.
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